Grimgal of Ashes and Illusion - Volume 16 - Chapter 7

7. We Simply Stood There in Confusion

Damuro, situated about four kilometers northwest of Alterna, was once known as the second city of the Kingdom of Arabakia. Its origins were ancient. People had been living there since time immemorial. For all that time, when humans came south for any reason, the majority of them crossed the Quickwind Plains and gathered in the place called Damuro. Some of them settled, building houses and living there for generations. Eventually the Kingdom of Arabakia installed a magistrate, and began to administer the territory.

The former human stronghold was divided into the Old City and the New City.

The nearby buildings had no doubt been two stories at one point in time, but now only a handful of them were still intact. Those things sticking up out of the rubble, were those pillars? There was a little animal walking across a beam sitting on top of the pillars. That enclosure with the varying height, was it a fence, or a wall?

Nothing but ruins, ruins, ruins, as far as the eye could see. Not many of the buildings had their walls and roofs fully intact. In fact, it was probably fair to say none of them did.

“Sure is quiet...” Kuzaku mumbled.

Instantly, off in the distance, there was a cry of, “Aaagahhh!”

“...Cripes.” Neal complained with a sniffle. “I sure drew one hell of a short straw.”

That’s our line.

Haruhiro would have liked nothing more than to say that, but he didn’t want to talk to Neal. He had to avoid getting shaken up. He wasn’t doing this because he wanted to, but if he was going to do it, he was going to do it without casualties. Even if he had a sneaking suspicion that it might be incredibly difficult to actually do that.

“There sure are a lot of them, huh? They’re all over the place. It’s Gobby McGobgob and his gobby friends.”

Who knew what she thought she was doing, but that brazen twintailed bitch was walking next to Haruhiro, snickering. Screw her.

Haruhiro didn’t like thinking of her as “that bitch.” But how could he not? First, he hated the way she looked. Her voice and manner of speech were unpleasant. Even her body heat and general presence were upsetting. Hiyomu’s very being, every aspect of it, rubbed Haruhiro the wrong way.

Just by standing at his side, she caused incredibly dark emotions to well up inside him. Intense loathing and hatred. He was a little surprised, and mildly shocked. He never knew he could detest someone this much. It even made him think, Isn’t this kind of abnormal?

Not having any memory of his former self, Haruhiro didn’t really know what he had been like. But he couldn’t have been a good person. Good people didn’t hate others like this. Even if it was Hiyomu.

No, maybe Hiyomu was an exception. It was her, after all.

Somehow, Haruhiro wanted to deny that Hiyomu was within arms’ reach of him. How much happier would he be if he could forget? It was impossible, of course. He could never erase it from his memory. Because it was a matter of fact that Hiyomu was right there.

Did he have no choice but to accept it, in the end? But he hated her. He didn’t want to accept it.

He knew. He wasn’t a child, so he had to put up with things he didn’t like. Everyone did. They endured, biding their time. He had to focus.

They weren’t walking particularly fast, but his pulse was racing. It was Hiyomu’s fault. He was getting pissed off again. Not good. He needed to breathe as calmly as he could, and broaden his field of vision. To observe himself, no, to observe the group from an overhead view.

When he did that, it was inevitable that he would see Hiyomu, too, but he just had to imagine she was a moving carrot or something.

Was that an insult to carrots? Carrots never did him any wrong. He didn’t particularly like them, though. Well, he didn’t hate them, either.

A carrot. Maybe this was a better idea than he thought? If he didn’t like or hate them, then the presence of one wouldn’t put him on edge.

A carrot.

Hiyomu is a moving carrot.

I don’t have anything against carrots, and this feels a bit forced, but that’s what I’m going to tell myself.

Haruhiro and the carrot were practically side by side, at the front of the group, with Kuzaku, Merry, Setora, and Kiichi behind them, and Neal at the very rear.

“Ahh!” and “Gyah!” the goblins continued shouting in the distance.

Yes.

This was the Old City of Damuro, a den of goblins.

They could see goblins on the roofs, and on the second floors of collapsing buildings. Goblins poked their faces out of the rubble, and the shadows of pillars, too.

When Haruhiro and the others approached, the goblins all hid. That, or fled.

Sometimes they would shout to intimidate the group. Just once, a goblin threw rocks at them from a spot they couldn’t hope to reach.

Regardless, for the moment, they showed no sign of attacking. The goblins of the Old City were watching the group uneasily to see what they would do.

“They’re just a bunch of loser gobs who got run out of the New City, after all.”

The moving carrot was acting smug. He hoped that attitude would make the carrot careless, so it would slip up and get in trouble. But in this situation, that would affect them, too. It was tough. Wasn’t there any way that something bad could happen to just the carrot?

“The trash gobs of the Old City can’t defy the gob king. They know they can’t do a thing against a serious group of human volunteer soldiers. They’re just worthless little pieces of trash. You can go ahead and ignore them. If we act like we own the place, they aren’t gonna mess with us.”

Haruhiro and the others remained silent. It looked like he wasn’t alone in his thinking. Merry, Setora, and Kuzaku had no intention of communicating with the carrot, either.

The moving carrot clicked its tongue. It looked like it was annoyed at being ignored, despite the fact it was nothing but a carrot.

After some time, Neal opened his mouth.

“Well, that’s about how it feels, yeah...”

Neal was General Jin Mogis’s man, and the moving carrot was a representative of his ally. As far as Neal was concerned, even if it was a moving carrot he was dealing with, he had to be reasonably considerate. Was that it?

Haruhiro wished the two of them would keep each other company. For his part, he wanted as little to do with either of them as possible, and to get what he needed to do done safely. He wanted Shihoru back, too.

This was the mission entrusted to Haruhiro and his party:

Slip through the Old City of Damuro into the New City.

Meet with Gwagajin, the king, or mogado, of the goblins.

Deliver Jin Mogis’s request, and receive an answer.

Return to Alterna, and convey Mogado Gwagajin’s response to the general.

They hadn’t actually been able to get a statement from the general that he had, in fact, abducted Shihoru, but he did say, “If you fulfill your duties, everything will be where it belongs.” That had to mean he would release Shihoru unharmed. If it didn’t, Haruhiro and the others would have to take action, with no further room for discussion. They weren’t going to hold back if it came to that.

Also, Neal was their watcher. The moving carrot was apparently going to negotiate with Mogado Gwagajin. It was hard to imagine being able to communicate with goblins, but apparently this carrot could. Was it because it was a carrot? He didn’t understand the logic, but apparently it had a way to. They wouldn’t be walking into the goblin stronghold if it didn’t.

No matter how you looked at it, this couldn’t possibly be safe.

Damuro was straight up enemy territory.

On top of that, Alterna had been occupied by the goblins until just recently.

They’d killed a lot of humans.

That wasn’t all. They’d eaten the corpses.

The goblins apparently ate their own kind, too, so they might not have meant any special insult by it.

What’s wrong with eating the dead? You people eat the meat of animals, too, don’t you?

If they said that to him, he’d struggle to find a response. But even setting that aside, goblins were blatantly hostile to humanity.

Though, according to the moving carrot, the goblins of the New City were nothing like the ones of the Old City. These were the lowliest members of goblin society, the dregs.

The Old City goblins looked pitiful compared to the ones that had occupied Alterna. Though there was individual variance, on the whole, none of them looked all that big or sturdy. Even when the Southern Expedition attacked, they apparently didn’t bother to mobilize the goblins of the Old City.

Haruhiro didn’t know if he was lucky or unlucky to have forgotten this, but around five years ago, Haruhiro and his party had come to the Old City of Damuro on a daily basis.

What had they been coming here to do? Not to have picnics, that was for sure. It was work. They were making a living. Hunting. The party had been hunting goblins. The Old City of Damuro was an ideal hunting ground for newly minted volunteer soldiers.

Many volunteer soldier trainees had built experience here in the Old City, and grown used to killing living creatures with their own hands. They went on to become full-fledged volunteer soldiers, and then left the nest. Haruhiro must have been one such fledgling.

But goblins were living beings, too. Naturally, they didn’t take it lying down.

In their trainee days, Haruhiro’s party had lost a comrade named Manato. He knew that because Merry had told him about it.

They’d avenged him. Haruhiro and his party had taken revenge against the goblins of the Old City.

Kill, and be killed, then kill, and be killed again. It wasn’t just unfortunate, it was a vicious cycle. If they didn’t break the chain somewhere, it would never end. Still, whether he remembered it or not, Haruhiro had killed goblins from the Old City. He was a murderer.

Let’s stop the meaningless killing.

He was in no position to utter those words, so he wouldn’t say them. If the goblins of the Old City attacked them, he’d fight back without hesitation. He wouldn’t show any mercy, either. But if fighting could be avoided, that was for the better.

I guess that’s not how this is going to go, huh?

“Gungyah!” a goblin shouted.

It was close.

Behind him.

Haruhiro turned around. It was in a ruin, about ten meters behind them on the left. The building was two floors, but mostly destroyed. Only about half of each floor remained. There it was. On the second floor. A goblin. Wearing a suit of chain mail that was full of holes. Was that a spear in its hands? It was a short spear. Was it planning to throw it? It had already begun the throwing motion.

“Kuzaku...!”

Even before Haruhiro called his name, Kuzaku was drawing his large katana. He turned and charged. The spear flew. Kuzaku swatted it aside with one swing. Neal shouted.

“That was dangerous!”

No, you should have noticed!

Haruhiro drew his dagger as he looked around, mentally cursing Neal.

What do we have you in the back for? Don’t drop your guard. Be useful if you’re going to take up oxygen!

“The hell was that?! You’re just a shitty little goooob!”

Eyes darting around, the moving carrot clutched its little plushie hair decoration, or whatever it was. Though it didn’t look like it, that hairpiece was a genuine relic.

“Move it!”

When Haruhiro raced towards the ruin ahead of them on their right, everyone followed him without delay.

It was a single-story building. Two thirds of the walls were intact. But the ceiling had caved in. There were no goblins inside. He was able to confirm that at a glance.

With their backs to the ruin, they positioned themselves so that their collective field of vision covered all directions. Kiichi clambered up the wall and stood atop a support beam.

Neal, for all his other failings, was still an active scout. So long as he didn’t let his guard down, he could do most things. But that even the moving carrot was cooperative and willing to act as one of the party was a little surprising. Hiyomu the moving carrot’s past was unclear, but she might have had some experience as a volunteer soldier.

“Five to the south,” Setora said in a calm voice.

“West, three,” Merry continued.

“Five to the east, I guess?” Kuzaku cocked his head to the side. “Nah, six. Could be eight.”

He was being vague, so Neil corrected him.

“There’s got to be more than ten. Where are your eyes?”

Haruhiro took a sweeping glance at the goblins his comrades had found.

“They’re organized...”

They weren’t an unruly mob. They had a leader. Where was it?

“It looks like they’re gonna attack from the east. I’ll hold them back,” Kuzaku readied his large katana. “I’ll be fine with minimal support.”

“The enemies to the south and west are trying to meet up. Isn’t the east a diversion?” Setora said plainly.

“The north is suspicious,” Hiyomu said. “Just now, one of the little critters poked its head out, then hid. That gob’s super shifty.”

“Leave this to us,” Neal said with a nasty laugh, then shoved Haruhiro’s shoulder. “Get out there, hero.”

Should I kick him? Haruhiro thought for a moment. Obviously, he wasn’t going to do something so pointless.

The north, huh? He didn’t see any goblins that fit the bill now. Could he trust what Hiyomu said? He didn’t trust her one iota as a person. However, if they couldn’t get out of this situation, Hiyomu was in trouble, too. Besides, it wasn’t as if Hiyomu and the master of the Forbidden Tower were out to harm Haruhiro and his party. Who was the master of the Forbidden Tower? That wasn’t clear at this point, but he or she had to have some goal. They were trying to use Haruhiro and his group to accomplish it.

“Kuzaku, meet the enemy in the center. Setora, you take command. I’ll find and eliminate the enemy’s leader.”

Haruhiro didn’t wait for a response. He sank into the ground. That was the mental image he used. —Stealth.

He immediately moved away from where he was and headed north. He didn’t wander around in the middle of the road. To the best of his ability, he used the ruins, rubble, and the shadows they cast to hide himself as he went.

Once in a while, he cut across the road. He had no fear. He had a sense — an intuition, that was all he could think to call it — for when he would be found. This time, he wouldn’t.

Kuzaku and the others were fighting. He didn’t turn back to look. They were fine. He could leave this to them.

He didn’t search. If he went looking, he’d actually be more likely to miss what he wanted to find. He took a broad, broad view of the entire scene. If anything moved, any shape or color seemed out of place, his attention turned towards it on its own.

He found it. A goblin. Their skin was generally a yellowish green. The ruins were covered in moss, ivy, and vines, so that provided some degree of camouflage. But they still stood out when they moved.

Ahead of him on the right, around thirty meters away, there was a large, two-story ruin. The first floor was solid. The second floor was half destroyed, like it was some sort of badly crumbling terrace.

Haruhiro pressed his back to the outer wall of a nearby ruin, and observed the terrace in question. There were two goblins up there now. They were crouching in the shadow of a boxy piece of furniture that was lying on its side, occasionally poking their heads out from behind it.

Was it just those two? No. Two thirds of the second floor had been reduced to looking like a terrace, but the remaining third still had a ceiling and walls. There was a set of stairs there, too.

One goblin climbed the stairs. Was it trying to join up with the pair above? It kept its posture low, rushing into the shadow of the piece of furniture.

Haruhiro headed toward the goblins’ position. The goblins on the terrace were remaining alert of their surroundings. He had to be a little careful, too.

He reached the ruin. The second floor terrace was above Haruhiro’s head. The wall was thick with ivy. There was a single window about three meters ahead of him. He tried approaching it.

He heard voices. Goblins’ voices. Inside the ruin, the goblins were talking. Was it two or three of them? Could there be more?

He peered through the window into the building. It was a large room. There were stairs in the back. He saw six, seven — eight goblins.

One came down the stairs. Another goblin went up to take its place.

A stool, no, a table? One of the goblins was sitting on a table. That goblin alone looked like it had better equipment. It was somewhat ill-fitting, but it was still copper armor, and it was even wearing a helmet, too. The armor and helmet sparkled. It must have polished them carefully. There were a number of daggers, probably four, hanging at its waist, and a longsword slung over its back.

That’s the leader, thought Haruhiro. The others were clearly subservient to that one.

In addition to the helmet gob, there were four goblins that were carrying crossbows. The crossbow gobs required caution. Even with Merry here, taking a crossbow bolt to anywhere vital would still be bad news.

Haruhiro moved another five meters or so along the wall. This looked like the way in and out. There was no door. It was a simple hole, tall and thin. There were signs of ivy having recently been cleared away.

He looked in through the entrance. Too far. The helmet gob was seven, eight meters away. The window had been closer. Even there it had been five meters, and they were obviously going to notice if he came in through the window.

Haruhiro decided to clamber up the wall, in the area where the second floor still had its walls and ceiling. It seemed like a good spot. The ivy couldn’t support Haruhiro’s weight. It would snap. Using the protrusions of the stonework as hand- and footholds, he rapidly ascended to the second floor’s roof.

The roof was tiled. Haruhiro crawled forward, taking care not to break it. He looked down at the terrace. Was the boxy piece of furniture a dresser? Three goblins were huddled close in its shadow.

One goblin stuck its head out from behind the dresser. It looked around, then quickly ducked down again.

Those goblins were lookouts. There were probably two up there at all times, with another as a messenger. Three total, huh?

If it was just two, he could snuff them both in the same instant. The third would raise a ruckus. The goblins below would detect something was amiss. No good.

The lookout goblins were only paying attention to things outside this ruin. It wasn’t possible for him to finish off all three at once. But he didn’t really need to eliminate the lookouts. Right. This would work.

Haruhiro turned around and lowered himself down the wall to the terrace floor.

One goblin had poked its head out from behind the dresser, and was looking around restlessly. But it didn’t notice Haruhiro at all.

Haruhiro headed for the stairs. The lookout goblins still hadn’t noticed him. There was no sign of one coming up the stairs, either.

Haruhiro climbed down the stairs, his hand going to the hilt of his dagger. There was a landing in the middle. Even without descending that far, if he crouched he could look out over the first floor.

It was roughly two meters from the bottom of the stairs on the first floor to where the helmet gob was sitting. The four crossbow gobs were close to the table, and the other four were a little farther away.

The helmet gob said something, and the crossbow gobs let out what sounded like a laugh. Then the other gobs laughed and clapped, too. Yeah, the helmet gob was definitely the leader. The crossbow gobs were his close followers, and the other goblins were probably in a position of servitude. The power dynamic was readily apparent.

Haruhiro pulled his dagger. He knew what he had to do. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say he could see it. The video played out inside his head. Haruhiro just had to follow it.

He climbed down the stairs. He’d be at the landing soon.

The helmet gob said something again. The goblins laughed.

He passed the landing, and descended farther.

The helmet gob had its right side facing towards him. Two of the crossbow gobs must have had Haruhiro in their field of vision, too. They should have been able to see him, but it never occurred to them that Haruhiro would be there, and they still hadn’t noticed. But they could at any moment.

He reached the bottom of the stairs. The helmet gob was practically right in front of him.

If I stop now, I’ll definitely botch this.

That thought made him stiffen. He kept moving.

Haruhiro tried to circle around behind the helmet gob. With just two steps to go, one of the crossbow gobs gulped. It was looking at him, eyes bulging. He’d been spotted.

He made a point of thinking, What, finally? Panicking would be the worst thing he could do. He had to either bail now or go through with it, and he couldn’t delay.

Haruhiro jumped on the helmet gob. He wrapped his left arm around its neck from behind. The helmet was too big for this goblin, and easily slid aside. Exposing its neck, he stabbed the dagger he was holding with a backhand grip into it. The helmet gob started to thrash around just before that. It was too late.

Keeping the helmet gob, which had died instantly, held in his left arm, Haruhiro bolted towards the exit.

One of the crossbow gobs leveled their weapon at Haruhiro. He planned to use the helmet gob as a shield if it fired. It didn’t.

The goblins started to make a lot of noise. By that point, Haruhiro was already outside.

Discarding the helmet gob’s corpse as he left, he ran to the place where he’d climbed up to the second floor earlier. The crossbow gobs came out of the ruin, chasing after Haruhiro. But he was already climbing the wall, a dagger clutched in his mouth. The goblins couldn’t find Haruhiro.

He climbed up onto the second floor’s roof. The goblins on the terrace were looking down, screeching as they tried to figure out what was happening. They were confused and panicked. That made it easy.

He dropped to the terrace. A dagger thrust through one lookout gob’s back killed it instantly. The other lookout gob was leaning over the edge of the terrace. Haruhiro booted it off, then tackled the remaining goblin and slit its throat.

The lookout gob cried “Gyah!” as it fell to the street below, but this was only the second floor. From the ground, it quickly rolled to its feet, and looked up at Haruhiro.

“Ngyahgwoah!”

He had no idea what it was actually saying, but he assumed that meant something like, It’s the enemy! He’s over there!

Two of the crossbow gobs took aim at Haruhiro. He got down just as the bolts flew towards him. The projectiles sailed by, way over his head. They were followed immediately by another two. The bolts, fired from below, stood no chance of hitting Haruhiro on the terrace.

The crossbow gobs were shouting. Judging by the sounds they made, a number of goblins had raced back into the ruin. They were climbing the stairs, intending to attack Haruhiro up on the terrace.

Haruhiro bounced to his feet, and immediately threw himself from the terrace. There were three crossbow gobs down below. Was the other one inside the ruins with the other goblins?

Landing, he closed in on a crossbow gob. It looked awfully surprised. When he got in position to tackle it, the goblin didn’t spin its crossbow around, but held it forward, trying to shield itself. It was absolutely terrified, and ready to run away.

Haruhiro didn’t tackle it; he instead grabbed the crossbow with his left hand. The crossbow gob reflexively pulled the crossbow closer, trying to stop him from seizing it. When Haruhiro let go, the crossbow gob pitched forward. Now off balance, the crossbow gob’s back was exposed, and he was able to plant a dagger in it effortlessly.

For whatever reason, he knew which stabs would be lethal, just what angle to strike at, and how deep, as if it were second nature to him. That seemed messed up, even to him, but it did make things easier.

There were two crossbow gobs left. One was fleeing into the ruin. The other threw its crossbow at him. He dodged the incoming weapon, then closed in on the goblin.

Striking the crossbow gob in the jaw with the palm of his hand, he swept its legs from under it with a trip. A slash to the throat left the goblin unable to breathe. Blood flowed from its carotid artery. Now, only death awaited.

He jumped into the ruin, and the crossbow gob that fled was there facing away from him. He pounced on it, and thrust his dagger through a vital point in its back.

Only one crossbow gob to go. The other four goblins had been halfway up the stairs, chasing him. They turned around. Screeched loudly. They were pretty badly panicked. They were afraid of Haruhiro.

Of course they were. He was soaked head to toe in goblin blood. He may have done this out of necessity, but the goblins weren’t going to believe that. A human mass murderer showed up, and was killing their comrades one after another. In the goblin’s eyes, Haruhiro must have been a monster.

He’d be lying if he said that didn’t hurt a little. But he couldn’t let up on them. Haruhiro pursued the crossbow gob. Its legs must have given out, because it collapsed when it got to the landing.

“...Damn it.”

Haruhiro snatched its crossbow, and kicked it in the butt.

“Leave us alone. You guys don’t want to die, either, do you?”

No matter what he said, they wouldn’t understand. But though they didn’t speak his language, he still hoped that the threat would work.

Still holding the crossbow, Haruhiro turned his back to the crossbow gob.

The crossbow gob didn’t move. The other goblins up top were staying put, too.

When he reached the exit, Haruhiro turned back to look at them. The crossbow gob and the other goblins looked at him. They were all trembling.

Haruhiro tossed the crossbow to the floor, and the goblins all jumped. He’d probably intimidated them enough. He hoped so. If he hadn’t, he was going to have to kill more. He wanted to avoid that, as much as possible.

“...Not that I’m in any position to be saying I don’t want to kill after everything I’ve done.”

Haruhiro left the ruin. He moved away, and watched from a short distance. The goblins weren’t coming out yet. He didn’t see goblins on the second floor terrace, either. Did they think he was outside, waiting to ambush them?

“Did I overdo it...?”

Haruhiro hurried back to his comrades. He could tell they had already settled things on their end, too.

It looked like everyone was okay. More than ten goblins lay dead. Most of them had been carved up with Kuzaku’s large katana.

“Good work, man,” said Kuzaku. He was acting awfully cheerful and casual about all this, considering he was bloodier than Haruhiro. It was kind of deflating.

“Well, I don’t know if I’d call it good work.”

“The Old City gobs just can’t put up a proper fight. Maybe I’m too strong?”

“Don’t get cocky, you fool.” Setora jabbed Kuzaku in the shoulder.

“Nah, I was kidding, okay?”

“If you’re joking, then make it sound like a joke.”

“He’s such a silly billy, isn’t he?” Hiyomu piped up. Kuzaku looked hurt.

“I don’t want to hear that from you...”

Neal was smiling faintly. It looked like he wanted to agree. Even if his position meant that he had to be considerate of Hiyomu’s feelings, he had to be fed up with her.

“How did you do?” Merry asked Haruhiro. Haruhiro nodded reflexively, but he didn’t want to go into it.

“...I eliminated what I assume was their leader. Let’s move on.”

“Kiichi!”

When Setora called his name, Kiichi nimbly jumped down from the top of the ruined building.

Haruhiro took a deep breath. He needed to get serious again. He’d driven off the gang that the helmet gob was leading. But that was all. Other groups might still attack them.

Merry came over to him. He thought she might ask, “Are you okay?” If she did, he’d have to say that, obviously, he was. But that wasn’t it.

Merry grabbed Haruhiro’s left hand, and checked his wrist.

“The magic’s worn off.”

“...Oh. Yeah, it has.”

Merry had cast the God of Light Lumiaris’s support magic spells Protection and Assist with Haruhiro, Kuzaku, Setora, and herself, along with Hiyomu and Neal, as the six targets. Once cast, the effect had a duration of around thirty minutes, so Merry would recast it before then.

The two hexagrams of different colors were still shining on Merry’s left wrist. It looked like Kuzaku and the rest had them, too. Apparently, the magic had worn off because Haruhiro strayed too far from Merry.

“I’ll recast it.”

Merry was still holding Haruhiro’s wrist as she made the sign of the hexagram with the fingers of her opposite hand.

“O Light, may Lumiaris’s divine protection be upon you... Protection. —Assist.”

Two hexagrams lit up on Haruhiro’s wrist as he watched.

Instantly, his body and heart felt lighter. He hadn’t known Merry’s magic affected the heart, too.

“Thanks.”

“Think nothing of it.” Merry smiled.

Huh? Haruhiro thought suspiciously. What is this? My chest feels weird.

It hurts.

It wasn’t cold, but he had goosebumps. There was a rustling in the back of his neck. His throat seized up, and he couldn’t speak.

“What’s wrong?” Merry cocked her head to the side.

No, it’s nothing, he wanted to say, but his mouth just flapped futilely, failing to form words.

“Ah!” Merry let go of Haruhiro’s wrist, and lowered her head. Her cheeks were flushed. Her ears were red. “Sorry,” Merry apologized in a small voice, pulling her own hair. “I was just... just checking. That’s all. Really.”

“...Yeah.”

Haruhiro lowered his eyes, too. Merry was rushing her words out, as if she were making excuses, but why? Honestly, he didn’t know. It wasn’t just Merry, either. He was pretty flustered, too. Why was he panicking like this?

He couldn’t get her shy expression out of his head. Of course not. She was right in front of his eyes. If he raised his eyes even a little, he could see it all he wanted.

But I can’t look.

My heart’s racing like crazy.

This is bad, isn’t it? This state I’m in. I need to settle down. If I don’t clear my head, we can’t move forward.

What’s happened to me?

Somebody, please tell me.

Not that I could ever ask.